Flubbed Up Again
by Wind-in-the-Sage
Summary: Carter is sent alone to blow a munitions dump. When it doesn't quite go to plan, Hogan has to find a way to give his sergeant some confidence and get the place bombed, as London keeps increasing the dump's priority. The arrival of everyone's favorite Gestapo major and Russian spy don't help Hogan's state of mind.
1. Things Go Wrong

Carter jumped at the sound of a branch snapping. He hated being on mission alone. It rarely happened, but the few times it did, it seemed it had to be on a dark and stormy night when they couldn't verify if there were any Germans in the woods and all of the night animals came out at once to snuffle around under logs and rustle through the leaves and break twigs off. He shook himself and kept moving. He had to make it to that munitions dump.

As he walked through the cold and wet, he thought about Newkirk and LeBeau, sitting comfortably in the infirmary. They weren't sick, but they had pretended to be for their last mission, and were still playing out their recoveries. One of them would have been out here with him if Klink hadn't had a sudden softening of heart and made it his duty to make sure they fully recovered and were attended to at all hours of the night. They were stuck in a warm infirmary with the kommandant's favor, and in Carter's opinion Newkirk was liking it too much. They could have been out of there and back on missions by now, but Newkirk kept insisting they had to play a convincing role. So the Ammunition Inspector of Hammelberg had no aide tonight. Kinch was waiting at the radio for their next set of orders from London and Hogan was covering for Carter and Kinch's absence.

Carter sighed in frustration and readjusted the bomb under his coat. It was a patch job, but he did those a lot, especially when he couldn't get a drop of dynamite from London and had to work with what the Underground could get to him from the black market. It didn't have to be too big a bomb anyway. The munitions dump would do most of the work of blowing itself up. He smiled at the thought before he froze at a whistling noise. It held, whispery and sustained, and Carter crouched, looking for its source. It waned, and when it started again, Carter noticed it came from above and corresponded with the wind. He carefully stepped toward it and found the offending, strangely-shaped branch the wind was whistling through. Geez, I need to calm down, he thought. I'm never going to get there this way.

Rubbing his arms and shaking what little rain fell from the threatening clouds off his hat, he continued on. Twenty minutes further on, he saw a wall of greenery through the trees that marked the edge of the forest. He slowed his place and listened. Footsteps and flapping canvas. That would be the dump. Carter crept up and got a good look through the leaves. This was a big one. He could blow it up just fine, but he'd have to get out of here fast. His timer wasn't the longest-setting kind. And there was the entrance, on the opposite side of the dump. He'd have to make his way around to the north side.

When he finally made it around, glad that the wind was covering much of his noise, he stopped just before he stepped into the road to brush off any leaves and straighten his appearance.

He stepped out of his currently skittish self and into his incensed superior act, then made his way resolutely down the road. He walked straight to the guard at the gates and handed over his papers.

"Ammunitions Chief Inspector. I am here to conduct an inspection of your facilities."

"Inspection? I was not told of this."

Carter turned a glare on him. "Do the Gestapo often make it a habit to tell you about their surprises?"

"The Gestapo?"

"Ja, I was ordered to make a surprise inspection by Major Hohenheim himself. You would do well to be surprised."

The guard looked behind Carter. "That is why you left your truck back on the road?"

"And came without an aide? Yes. Now hurry and let me in or it will no longer be much of a surprise to your men, now will it?"

"I suppose not." He hurriedly checked the papers again and saluted, opening the gates. Carter walked through, not waiting for an escort, with the air of a man late to an appointment and mad at the whole world for making him so.

He walked through the first several rows with a critical eye and distinct look of disappointment, noticing the word of his arrival spread. He took a more direct route to the back of the compound where he only had to keep an eye on two or three directions, not four. As soon as he was able to look around and see no one in sight, he undid his jacket and pulled out the bomb. He lifted a canvas cover and set it carefully on the edge of a crate. Just a twist here, a pull there—he checked his watch—and...set.

Now he headed straight back to the entrance, walking along the edge instead of straight up the middle, pretending to inspect the fence. It was for this reason that he caught the guard's conversation before he appeared in view.

"...heard of a Major Hohenheim?"

"Nein, but there are many people at the Gestapo I don't know."

"And why are we having an inspection in the middle of the night?"

The second guard answered tiredly, "It was a surprise."

"Alone? And—ah, that's it!—his pants were wet at the knees. He's been walking through underbrush."

Carter cursed his absent-mindedness.

"You mean he is Underground?"

The first man sounded exasperated. "Yes."

"Sound the alarm, then!"

Carter abruptly changed course. He was not going out through the front gates, and if he didn't hurry, he wasn't going out at all. He checked his watch and looked for a spot along the fence that couldn't be viewed. Then the alarms went off. He ducked into a side alley and stayed on the side shadowed from the moonlight. He headed south. He was about to turn the corner when footsteps made him crouch. He prayed what Newkirk had told him was true about not moving and held as still as he could, heart pattering, and watched several guards run past him. Then he poked his head out into the next passage and, seeing no one, stood up and began to walk. He forced himself not to outright run. That's what the guards were looking for. He strode purposefully across the compound, rerouting as he spotted groups of guards he could not possibly walk through without being identified, all the time his heart in his throat. He stopped in another shadow and pulled up his sleeve to see his watch. Explatives in every language he had become familiar with sounded off in his head, but the only thing that came out was a whispered, "Oh man."

He had been held up too long. He wasn't going to get far enough away in time. He had to disable his bomb.

Carter made his way back to the bomb, taking several wrong turns that made the panic rise and his feet move faster. Finally, he found it. He crouched and pressed against the crate it was on. He looked both ways. No one for the moment. He reached up and pulled the bomb down, immediately pulling the wires apart and searching in the dark for the right one. His fingers found it. This one was clamped between two plates. He tugged, but it didn't budge. Fingers shaking with adrenaline, he pinned it down with his knee, got both hands around the wire, and pulled for all he was worth.

A snap was followed by a strange sizzling and puffing noise and a sudden pain in Carter's left knee. He bit his tongue and almost yelled out. He frantically tried to wipe the chemicals away, forgetting he didn't have his gloves on. A yell in German snapped back his attention. A guard a good sixty yards away had spotted him. He looked down at the leaking bomb. He couldn't leave it. The material in this thing could easily be traced back to their Underground suppliers. He looked back at the guard, now running at him, and suddenly, the adrenaline was just enough.

He picked up the bomb and ran to the fence, his knee slowing him considerably. But he knew he was safe from gunfire until he got to the trees. No one dared shoot within a munitions dump. He ran, and when he got to the fence, he hugged the bomb tight and rolled under the wire, tearing his uniform. He got within the brush just as the gunfire started.

~~HH~

Hogan paced. He knew he was supposed to be sleeping, but that wasn't going to be happening with Carter outside on his own. Especially not now that he was overdue. He looked at his watch. Way overdue. But what was worrying him more was that he hadn't heard an explosion. At this distance, he knew he wouldn't be able to hear a bridge go up, but surely a munitions dump?

He was stopped in his pacing by a tap on the roof, followed shortly by another one. Hogan moved immediately to his window and cracked it open, surveying the fence line. He couldn't see anyone, but... There was the third tap. And this time, he saw an acorn fall off the roof in front of him.

Hogan rushed out of his quarters and to the bunk tunnel. He hardly acknowledged Kinch as he passed the radio, rushing out to their stump exit. He checked for guards with the periscope, and quickly ascended the ladder. He stepped out of the stump and crouched down, scanning the woods around him.

"Here, Colonel!" he heard a hiss. Hogan stepped around a bushy shrub and drew up short.

Carter, sitting against a tree, uniform ripped and burned, face scratched up, gave him a weak smile. He lifted his slingshot and whispered, "I needed help getting down the ladder."

"Carter, what happened?" Hogan asked, dropping beside him and checking the rips for any blood.

"Not now. Quick. You gotta me to my lab."

It was then that Hogan spotted the mess of machinery sitting next to Carter. "Is that your bomb?"

"Hurry up!" Carter hissed more urgently.

Hogan did as he was told. He helped Carter up and moved him over to the stump when the lights had passed. "I'll go down first and support you, okay?"

Carter nodded. Hogan went to grab the bomb, and Carter pulled away from him. "No! Don't touch it!"

Hogan would have argued if they'd had more time. Instead he got into the stump and halfway down the ladder, then helped Carter place his feet. They got the lid closed and Hogan on the ground before Carter fell. Hogan caught him as best he could, and Carter was still hugging the bomb, not even trying to catch himself. "My lab," Carter mumbled, and began to limp down the tunnel. That alarmed Hogan and he put himself against Carter's side, putting a hand under his elbow to support him. _What happened to you, Carter?_

When they made it to the lab, Carter set the bomb on the table and immediately got to work with his tools. "Colonel, this thing's a mess. You gotta get out of here in case it blows," he said adamantly. Hogan didn't move. "We've been over this before." He tried two tactics at once. "Please! That's an order!"

Hogan ignored the impossibility of the last sentence and left. He went a healthy distance down the tunnel, where he could still hear Carter if he needed help. He tried to review what he had seen. Carter was limping, the bomb was leaking, the scratches on his face could have been from running through the woods—Was someone chasing him? Had he led them back here? And wait. Hogan saw Carter picking up his tools in his mind's eye. What had happened to his hands?

He was about to go check the periscope when Carter called, "You can come back now, Colonel."

Hogan got back to the lab and asked, "Anyone following you?"

"I lost 'em," said Carter. Hogan saw Carter's work table. It was littered with tools, metal pieces, a clear liquid, and a neat pile of granulated something-or-other to the side. Carter himself was sitting on the floor with his hands in a bucket of water. He looked up at his commander. "Could you get me some more water?" he asked childishly, as if it really were a question.

Hogan could finally put something together. "Chemical burn?"

Carter nodded. Hogan was off. He made it most of the way to the radio when Kinch came up to him.

"What's up? Is Carter back?"

"Get Wilson."

"What? What happened?"

"Now." Hogan was already gone, hurrying to find another bucket and fill it at the barracks sink. As Wilson's barracks were a good distance away—something Hogan decided he ought to fix—he made it back well before the two sergeants did. Carter's eyes, which had been closed, opened when he heard Hogan. The look in them made his heart twinge.

"Got you some water, Carter."

"I failed my mission," he said, looking at his commander.

"Don't worry. Here." Hogan put the new bucket down next to the old one and tried to move Carter's hands to the next one. He resisted.

"My knee," he said. _What about a knee?_ Hogan thought. "I didn't complete it. And now they suspect the Underground."

"Carter, don't worry about that. I'll fix it. We'll get that dump. Now let me fix you. Where are you hurt?"

Carter looked like he really wanted to believe that, then decided he did. "My hands, my knee, my chest. The acid got all on my shirt. I need to take it off before it burns more."

"Carter, why didn't you say something?" Hogan scolded, carefully but quickly undoing Carter's buttons and getting his shirt off while trying not to touch the acid himself.

"I had to deactivate—" Carter quit speaking as Hogan pulled the undershirt over his head. Hogan took stock of the red burns on Carter's chest, and the glistening acid that was still there. "The second bucket," Carter prompted. "Pour it on."

"Lay down," Hogan instructed, helping Carter get on his side. When he was positioned so the water would roll off onto the floor, Hogan brought the bucket up and carefully poured it on all of the burned areas. Carter gasped at the cold and urgently said, "Wait! Save some. For my knee."

Hogan put down the bucket and Carter fell back onto the floor, breathing heavily. Hogan found the burned knee and began tearing Carter's pant leg away from it. He discarded it to the side and lifted the bucket again to begin pouring slowly.

Carter jerked slightly at the contact of the water, but didn't make a noise. Hogan concentrated on washing off all of the chemical and stretching the bucket as much as he could. It was a good thing they had an absorbent floor, he thought. His mind moved on to inventing ways to explain away this injury when Carter interrupted his thoughts. "Hogan?" Hogan looked at his young tech sergeant. "Thanks. And, I'll go back and get that dump."

Hogan sighed. "Carter—"

"When you send for me, maybe you can tell me what's wrong," Wilson grumped. He and Kinch had come in behind Hogan, and now Wilson was kneeling next to the Colonel and situating a blanket over Carter's upper body. "Judging by the state of the work desk, we've got chemical burns?"

"Yeah," Hogan confirmed. "We've been rinsing them."

"Good," said Wilson. "You and Kinch go get more water. Warm. Wish we had faucets down here."

Hogan nodded and got up to follow Kinch out. He stole a look at Carter before he left. Carter was watching him go with big eyes. "I'll be back, Carter," he said. "Wilson's got you."

Carter nodded hesitantly and Hogan left in search of more buckets.

After Wilson was done cleaning and bandaging, and they had gotten Carter comfortably situated on the tunnel cot, Hogan took Wilson aside. "How is he? For real?" he asked.

Wilson was putting together his tools on the floor of the lab and looked up at Hogan. "It was a lot of surface area to attend to quickly, but it's not as bad you might think." He started folding up his blanket. "First degree burns on his chest, some second degree on his hands. Really the worst part is his knee. Apparently there was a miniature explosion there."

"Miniature—?"

"I'm not sure. But there's no structural damage. Keep it clean, keep it elevated, and keep him from walking."

Hogan paused. "I guess that means getting caught by the guards is out of the question?"

"What?"


	2. Things Go Worse

One hour later, all was quiet in camp. Hogan lay in his bed, carefully listening to the sounds outside the barracks. So far, nothing beyond the usual. He looked at his watch. By now, everyone should have had the chance to get back to their bunks. _What's taking so l—_

Even though Hogan was expecting it, it still made him jump and shot adrenaline through him. Carter had a good scream. He just hoped it wasn't genuine. He shot out of bed and into the barracks. After telling everyone to calm down and stay put, he left, heading straight for the mess hall and the commotion of guards now arriving there. He pushed through, shouting, "Hey! What's going on?" until he made it to Carter. He had to admit, the young man had done a good job of setting the scene.

There was Carter, sprawled on the floor with a full leg of ham thrown to one side, a bottle of cooking oil tipped over, and Carter's jacket on the floor, looking like he had just used it to put out a fire. Schultz was trying to get him up while Carter was protesting "How was I supposed to know your cook keeps the pilot light on?"

Klink was not far behind Hogan. "What is this?" he demanded.

Hogan, Carter, and Schultz all spoke at once.

"What? Fire? Stop! One person at a time!" It settled down. "Schultz, report!" he ordered.

"Well, kommandant, I was marching, on guard duty, when I heard a scream and things falling and I ran into the kitchen and saw Carter." He gave Carter a reproving look. "He must have been stealing food because he is not allowed out of barracks at night!"

"We can see that Schultz, the ham is right next to him! And that ham took a lot of bargaining to get! Oh this man is getting cooler time!"

"Kommandant, you can't blame him!" Hogan broke in. "I mean, have you seen the food we get?" Hogan knelt down to check on Carter. "What's all this oil?"

"I put out a fire. The cooking oil fell and the stove's pilot light was on." He groaned, and favored his knee and hands. Hogan held them to the light. "You got burned?" He looked up at Klink, aghast. "He put out a fire at immense danger to himself!"

"The fire that he started! That was purely self-defense. He was caught stealing, and he will get sixty days!"

"Aw come on, kommandant. Have a heart. Thirty days. Infirmary, not cooler."

Carter did his best to look pitiful. Klink relented. "Five days in the infirmary, thirty five in the cooler."

"Thirty."

"Twenty, and that is my final offer!"

"Deal." Hogan moved to Carter's side. "Come on, Carter. You've got twenty days in the infirmary to heal."

"Don't twist my words, Hogan! I said five in the infirmary!"

"And the rest of the twenty in the cooler, that's right, sir."

"Yes, that's right," said Klink, looking only a tad confused. "Schultz!" Klink turned around, looking for his sergeant of the guard. He had the ham in his arms and was chewing happily. "Schultz!"

Schultz's eyes popped. "I-I was putting it back. Back where it belongs so _no_ body can steal it!" He shot an accusatory look at Carter to cover his own disobedience.

"Nevermind, Schultz! Escort them to the infirmary!"

"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant!" He saluted, causing the ham to drop. Hogan grabbed his arm before he could pick it up and walked Carter and Schultz out of the kitchen.

Klink shook his head, ordered a few of the guards to clean up the mess, and made his way back to his quarters. He spent the short rest of the night before roll call wondering exactly how the man's sentence had gone from sixty days to twenty. He must be getting soft.

~~HH~~

Hogan finally got Schultz to quit bemoaning the lost ham and help him carry Carter as they made their way to the infirmary.

"Okay, Colonel Hogan," he agreed, then spoke to Carter, "But why would you steal food? The cockroach even lives in your barracks."

"I was gonna share," Carter said innocently.

"Oh. Then that is okay," Schultz said smilingly. Before they got to the door, it opened for them.

"'oo screamed?"

"Where's André?"

"Did we get the dump?"

"Hold it!" Hogan quieted. "Carter, here, and no."

"Dump?" Schultz's eyes had gone wide.

"You'd better go, Schultz. We've got it from here." Schultz nodded and left as quickly as he could. "Help me get him inside," Hogan said.

Newkirk took Schultz's place and LeBeau went to pull the sheets back on one of the empty beds. "What 'appened there, mate? You get 'urt?"

"It's a long story," Carter sighed.

"One you've got the rest of the night to tell," said Hogan. "Enjoy your last night with pillows, boys. Tomorrow morning you will be miraculously healed. "

"Why?" asked Newkirk.

"How does _he_ know that?" LeBeau wondered in mock amazement.

"Wilson needs to focus on Carter, not keeping up a charade for you two. And we still have a munitions dump to blow up. I need you back in barracks."

Newkirk pouted. "Fine. I just 'ope me pneumonia doesn't come back to strike me a death-dealing blow," he said dramatically. LeBeau cuffed him on the back of the head.

"So get some sleep. All of you, and that's an order. Wilson will be here in a few minutes to re-bandage Carter. I'll see you in the morning."

"Goodnight, Colonel."

"'Night, Guv."

"Bonne nuit, mon Colonel."

~~HH~~

Hogan stood in line at roll call next to his two yawning companions. It looked like they had stayed up the rest of the night until Shultz came to check on them and found them well enough for roll call. They better not have kept Carter up. Hogan was feeling bad for having sent him out on his own, and he wanted Carter to have plenty of rest. Some may call him sentimental, but when it came to his men, he had just as much of a mother-henning steak as Newkirk (though the Brit would never admit to it).

Klink was explaining what happened the night before to the compound at large, saying that the man in question had gotten very strict punishment, though he didn't mention what that punishment was exactly.

Hogan tactfully hid his yawn behind his hand. He _had_ stayed up all night. Once he had gotten back to barracks, Kinch had told him what London radioed. "Priority on that dump went up, that's all. And the Underground is busy. They can't help."

Hogan had spent the rest of the night trying to sleep while his brain decided it was time to figure out how to blow that dump when security was through the roof and with no help from the Underground or bombers. It had been an unproductive night.

Hogan lowered his hand, which uncovered his view of a staff car at the gates. This was an unplanned visit. Or a surprise visit. Hochstetter? Nope. Not Gestapo. Hogan watched the car carefully, trying to get a hint of who was inside. As it drove into the gates it got just close enough for him to make out a mound of furs in the back...

~~HH~~

Carter looked up as the cooler door opened. Shultz walked in with Hogan. Before the door shut, he thought he could hear a Russian voice saying, "—later, darling!" Shultz closed the door behind them.

"What's up, fellas?" Carter asked. Hogan didn't respond. He was rubbing his temples. Shultz didn't respond. He just gave a guess-who-drank-the-last-of-the-milk look and opened Carter's cell door. Hogan stepped in. Shultz left.

"Colonel? Did– did you just get put in the cooler?"

Hogan sighed wearily. He inhaled. He nodded.

"How? Why?"

He sighed again. "I don't really want to talk about it. But if Newkirk and Kinch don't hurry up, we're not getting out for a long time."

"What about LeBeau?"

"I couldn't trust him on mission. I think he's making her dessert."

Carter pressed for more but didn't get anything.

"You don't need to worry about it. You're stuck in here anyway."

"But—"

"Trust me. You don't _want_ to worry about it." They fell silent.

"So what are we going to do?"

Hogan finally met Carter's gaze. "Carter, my boy, I'm going to use this time to my best advantage. I really need some sleep." Hogan stood and walked to the other side of the cell. He took off his jacket and began balling it up as a pillow.

"Oh. Colonel, you can use the cot. I'm not sleeping."

"No, you need to keep that leg elevated."

"Well, if you let me use your jacket I can do that on the floor. You take the cot."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. You do look like you need sleep."

"Thanks, Carter."

Hogan came over and helped Carter off the cot and onto the floor. He set him against the wall so he could sit up, and rolled his jacket up tight, placing it under Carter's ankle. "How's that?"

"Good," Carter said.

"How about your burns? Have you checked them?"

"Not since Wilson bandaged them yesterday."

"Let's make sure you don't have infection, eh?"

"Okay."

With Carter's hands out of action, Hogan rolled up his pant leg. They'd gotten him a size bigger so they'd be able to pull it up past his knee. Hogan carefully undid the bandage. The wound made him cringe every time he saw it, but he was pleased to see progress since last he'd looked, and no sign of infection. "Looking good, my friend." Carter hm'd and Hogan wrapped it securely back up. Carter flinched.

"I'm sorry. Did I—"

"It's okay. I don't think it was you."

Hogan grunted unhappily to himself. That was just what was bothering him. It _was_ his fault.

They checked his hands next, which looked terrible as well, still red and blistered, but an awful lot better than his knee. Carter got a chance to gingerly flex his fingers before Hogan wrapped them back up again, more gently this time.

"Your chest?" he asked.

"Wilson said those burns are all healed up now. They weren't as bad."

"I'm glad." Hogan put his hand on Carter's shoulder. "Now your job is to focus on healing up." He took a deep breath. "Mine is to take care of the dump and the crazy Russian."

"After you take a nap."

"You got that right." Hogan went to the cot, lay down, and put his cap on his stomach. "Goodnight, Carter."

"Um, night, Colonel."

Carter sat on the floor for the next few minutes, counting bricks, stretching his toes, and staring intensely at the loose thread on his jacket, wishing he could fiddle with it. Soon, Hogan's deep breathing caught his attention. He looked over at his commander, who was now fast asleep. Without his reassuring smile, it was easy to see the worry-lines in his face. Carter sighed. He really was worn thin. Gosh, Marya was hard enough to deal with. Having to get a munitions dump blown up too, using just Newkirk and Kinch now that Carter, LeBeau, and now Hogan were out of action... Carter couldn't imagine it. He felt pretty bad about flubbing up. He had to make it up to the Colonel. Maybe he'd be well enough by the time they got to actually blowing the thing that he could make the bomb right this time.

Without knowing it, he too ended up falling asleep.


	3. Plans Change

This chapter being short, I'll publish the next one quickly. Thanks to the reviewers!

* * *

In the middle of the night, Hogan woke to a knocking. Once he was awake enough to register it, he realized it was Morse. A question mark. He checked down the passage. Schultz was fast asleep. He knocked back Y-E-S. In a moment, he heard a scraping sound, followed by stern whispers. The scraping continued, slower and quieter. Then, out of one of the solitary cells, came a corporal and a sergeant.

"Any luck?" Hogan asked.

"No go, Colonel," whispered Kinch. "Seems Marya suggested a further increase in security. Now we have to deal with floodlights too."

"You kidding me?"

"No, sir."

Hogan sighed.

"What is it, guv?"

"I cannot be reasonably expected to finish this mission without a cup of coffee."

"I'll bring one in the mornin', sir."

"Thank you, Newkirk."

"Orders?" asked Kinch.

"None, for now."

"None?''

"Oh. One thing."

"Yeah?"

"Try to distract LeBeau. I may need him."

"Yes, sir.''

"Sorry we couldn't complete the mission," apologized Newkirk.

"No. It's not your fault. It would have been a miracle if you guys could pull off anything with the situation I gave you. Go get some rest. We'll talk in the morning."

"Alright."

They left as quickly as they had come, and Hogan walked back to the cot, running his hand though his hair. He was startled when he noticed Carter in the dim light, eyes open, looking at him.

"Gosh. When you said you weren't going to sleep, you meant it. It's the middle of the night. When did I get here? Mid-afternoon?"

Carter would not be sidetracked. "They didn't do it."

"No."

"It's my fault."

"Carter. Don't speak. I'm the one who failed."

He spoke anyway. "No. I got found out. And then I didn't blow up the place."

"And I've dealt with things like this before. I've had five days to deal with this. Five!"

"No, Colonel. You don't understand. I think I could have done it." He looked down at his hands. "But I didn't."

That made Hogan pause. "What do you mean, Carter?"

"I was... I was scared."

Suddenly, Schultz snorted and woke himself. "Hmm? What? Strudel?" He looked toward their cell. "Boys, what are you doing up? No monkey business, I hope?"

"Schultz, we're in the cooler," said Hogan. "Could you stop being suspicious for once?"

"Hmm. You are right, perhaps. But you should be sleeping, ja?"

"Ja, ja. Goodnight, Schultz." Hogan turned back to Carter, who was still looking at him with solemn eyes. "Come on, Carter. We'll get you in the bunk so you can sleep." Carter didn't say a word as they got him up on one foot to hop over to the cot and lay down. Hogan situated the blanket so that Carter's leg was propped up. Carter was still silent. Hogan sighed. He listened for the familiar sound of Schultz's snoring, and said, "Looks like I'll be in here for awhile. We can talk about it in the morning."

That seemed to be satisfactory. "Okay," Carter agreed, and closed his eyes.

Hogan realized as he sat against the wall and put his cap over his face that he had more than just a munitions dump to deal with.

~~HH~~

"Well lookie 'ere. An officer and a gentleman."

"Belle et la bête."

"Jeckyll and Hyde."

Carter opened his eyes to see Newkirk, LeBeau, and Kinch standing on the other side of the cell door. He propped himself up on his elbows. "You realize none of those make sense?" Hogan said, as Newkirk handed him a cup of coffee through the bars.

"Mine did," pouted the Englishman.

"Does that make me the gentleman?" Carter asked.

"How are you feeling today, mon ami?"

"Fine," said Carter.

"Hurry up," Schultz urged. "You only have five minutes."

"Five! You said we had ten!" LeBeau argued loudly.

"No it is five!"

"I 'eard ten loud an' clear, Schultzie. 'splain that." Newkirk gestured to Carter to come over. He picked himself up, watching Hogan and Kinch move to the corner and exchange a few whispered words.

Carter joined the distraction. "Five minutes isn't enough!" Newkirk handed him a cup of coffee. "Thank you."

"Schultz, nothing goes that fast in a prison camp." He winked at Carter. "Y' welcome."

They continued to badger Schultz until they heard Hogan choke on his coffee. "She _what_?"

"She what?" Schultz repeated.

"Nevermind, Schultz." Hogan waved him off and handed the cup to Kinch. "I think it's been five minutes. You guys can go."

"Okay. Come on, Schultzie," LeBeau said pleasantly.

"Yeah, come on," said Newkirk. "Nothing moves slower 'an you in a prison camp."

Schultz, a little dumbfounded at their sudden compliance, herded everyone back out. Hogan hardly got time to tell Carter, "Heal quick, I'm gonna need you outta here soon," before Marya, Klink, and an unidentified general came in and whisked Hogan away.

Carter was left alone in his cell again.

~~HH~~

That afternoon, Hogan demanded to see his sergeant. ("But you saw him this morning!" "And you saw your schnapps this morning. Doesn't mean you don't want to visit it again." "Hogaaan!") He brought LeBeau, who snuck Schultz strudel while Hogan spoke with Carter.

"You feeling okay?

"Fine, sir."

"Good. So here's the deal. We're going to get that dump. We've got it set up so that we'll be able to go there in two weeks as a Russian tour of the Germans' defense systems. I need a bomb from you by then. But you're going to be working night shifts. Newkirk's going to get you out of here every night via the tunnel in the cell across the way, and you'll be able to work in your lab. Can you do it?"

"I should be healed enough by then. And I do have enough materials... What if a guard comes looking for me?"

"We've got Schultz posted on the cooler for an indeterminate amount of time. LeBeau will keep him stocked up on food to keep him sleepy."

"How's he going to explain feeding Schultz for so long?"

"Baking competition. He's got to find the best recipe to enter so he'll be trying out several."

"Can I join? I make a good chocolate chip cookie."

Hogan paused, and gave Carter a good look. "Why don't you join the next competition without a gourmet French chef competing? Anyway, what I want to see from you would do nothing good to LeBeau's stove."

"Oh, a bomb. That's right," Carter said, with very little of his usual enthusiasm.

Hogan gave him a rueful look. "Carter, you're the best pyrotech I know. I trust you. Trust yourself. We'll get Newkirk in here tonight. You can do inventory, plan, whatever you need to do, and start on construction when your hands are freed up."

Carter had a funny look, but he nodded and said, "Yes, sir."

"Alright, I'll get going. See you tonight."

"See ya."

Carter looked down the corridor to watch them go. Hogan was trying to get Schultz up and guarding the door again even though he wasn't quite done eating. "Oh, come on, Schultz, eating on the job? You know what Klink would say." They eventually got out.

Carter carefully made it back to his cot. He was in a bit of a daze trying to process what Hogan had said. _Trust myself? But... how? I don't trust myself. I goof things up. I trust other people. Like Hogan._ He realized he had gotten himself back to the start. _I guess if I trust Hogan and he trusts me...I should trust me. Can I really do it? Without messing up?_


	4. Out of the Cooler

"You're down to one more night in the slammer, me lad. Last time I gotta drag you outta 'ere."

"Last time I gotta drag you out of bed before roll call to put me back."

"Got that right, mate." Carter heard the click in the lock as Newkirk got the door open. "Ready?" he asked as he put his lockpicks away.

"Yup."

Newkirk eased the door open and came to stand by Carter's side. Carter could mostly walk on his own now, but Newkirk wanted to be there in case he had to catch him. "You almost done?"

"Yeah, it's just slow going, you know." They got to the solitary cell with the tunnel opening. Carter was glad to see the warm light from the tunnel's flame lanterns. "Newkirk," he said, as they positioned him to go down the few steps backwards. "Do you know who's taking the bomb? Who's going on the mission? I want to, but—"

"The Colonel's not letting you go, if that's what you're wondering. I think it'll 'ave to be me an' LeBeau. 'e can fit in the back of the truck, an' I'll be playin' a German, runnin' interference."

"Interference?"

"Colonel's plan isn't too awful solid on this one. Oh, and LeBeau will 'ave a two-way. Kinch'll tell 'im when the coast is clear."

"How?" The concern that had been waning as the bomb had gotten close to completion was coming back.

"'e'll be posted right outside the dump. 'Course, 'ogan is stayin' 'ere. To allay suspicion of our involvement. 'ochstetter's been snoopin'." Carter's eyebrows went up. "An' 'ere we are. 'ome sweet lab. You good?"

"Mm."

"Great. I'm gonna catch a kip 'fore you shake me awake just as me dream is gettin' to the kiss." And he left.

Carter stared at his bomb. There were many more complications than he'd been counting on. He swallowed and hoped his bomb wouldn't be one of them.

That wouldn't be good.

He got to work in the silence of the tunnels, consoling himself with the idea that at least he'd be back in barracks tomorrow.

~~HH~~

"To the front lines? Tomorrow?"

Hogan raised his eyebrows. Oh.

"...Yes sir, I understand, but it is very important to the visiting officials at my camp...Why can't they do it earlier today? Um. They aren't available today...No, they are in town, I don't know how to contact them...Oh, thank you, sir! That is very kind of you, I'm sure they will be much pleas—" Klink cut himself off as, apparently, the person on the other end hung up.

Hogan turned off the coffeepot. He got up from his stool to go tell the boys in the barracks. That Russian inspection had to go through that night, and it had to go over with a bang. They wouldn't get another chance to blow that dump. It was moving to the front lines tomorrow.

He opened his door to see Marya, captivator of hearts, sitting on the center table, enjoying her many admirers. He very nearly closed it again. How did she manage to get so much time in the prisoners' barracks?

"Of course, I told him— Oh, Hogan! I wanted to see you. Why won't you come with us tonight?" She came over to him, and he tried his best to brush by her. It was rather like brushing by a burr. He spoke to his men with as much dignity as a woman plastered to his side while he gave orders would allow. "We've got to get that dump tonight. It's being sent to combat tomorrow."

"Good luck to it," murmured Newkirk.

"But that was the plan," said LeBeau.

"Don't worry, we will do it. You, me, and the short one," Marya whispered into his ear. _O_ -kay.

"You, the Englishman, and the short one," he told her as he pulled her off of him. "I already told you, Hochstetter is after me and— Marya, what are you doing here? I thought you were in town. Klink thinks you're in town."

She shrugged with a frown. Hogan let it go. "Newkirk, do you know how far along Carter is?"

"Close. But I'm sure 'e needs the rest o' the day wot with 'is 'ands."

"I'll go get him."

"I'll go with you."

"Marya, the kommandant can't see you."

"Oh, what a shame." She went to step towards him again, and Hogan shot a meaningful glance at LeBeau. He and Newkirk stepped in and distracted her long enough for Hogan to get away. Not that she would have been distracted if she didn't want to be distracted. She and Hogan, at the very least, both knew that.

Hogan traversed the compound, walking on what was beginning to look like a very straight cow path. He made it right into the kommandant's office without any objection. "Kommandant?"

Klink looked up from his paperwork. "What is it, Hogan?"

"I'm here to get Sergeant Carter. He's supposed to get out of the cooler today."

Klink gave him a suspicious, one-eyed squint. He moved several papers out of the way and gave a hard look at his calendar. Yep. There it was, in his handwriting: "Carter out of cooler." He looked back up at Hogan's infuriatingly innocent look. He could feel the I-told-you-so and the don't-you-trust-me coming off of him. "Yes, fine. Schultz!"

Hilda peeked her head in. "He is guarding the cooler, Herr Kommandant, remember?"

"Oh yes, thank you, Hilda." He thought for a moment, looked at his piles of paperwork, and waved Hogan on. "Tell Schultz I sent you."

"Thank you, sir."

Hogan made his way to the cooler, tipping his hat at Schultz. "Kommandant sent me to get Carter out."

"Colonel Hogan, I cannot let you in there without signed approval from Colonel Klink."

"Oh, come on, Schultz. You're going to be difficult now? Carter's time is up." And he honestly couldn't wait to get him back in Barracks 2. Things were so different without him, and goodness knows he needed some comic relief after dealing with Marya for more than two weeks.

"I cannot let you in, it is not to pr-r-rotocol!"

Hogan stepped closer, and with a vaguely conspiratorial whisper said, "Bake-off's tomorrow. LeBeau's got one more recipe to try. You don't want to miss out, do you? He won't even enter if Carter's not there."

Schultz looked frightened at the thought. "Why?"

"Because Carter's one of the judges."

Schultz's brow creased, trying to understand that, but eventually he took Hogan's word for it, and let him into the cooler.

"Carter?" Hogan called.

"Colonel?"

Hogan made it to his cell, Schultz following. "Come to get you out, Carter."

"Thanks, buddy. I can't wait to get back to my own thin mattress."

Hogan wasn't sure if he was actually joking. He sounded happy, but he looked queasy.

Schultz had unlocked the door. Hogan stepped in and asked, "You've got all your belongings? Might I carry your trunk?"

Carter smiled. "Yeah."

Hogan smiled back, glad to lift Carter's spirits. "Alright, Schultz. Away we go."

Schultz got back to his post outside the cooler, and Hogan escorted Carter back to barracks. Carter was greeted by lots of hugs and candy bars, and Hogan was greeted by Marya. ("Why are you still here?" "Where else am I supposed to hide while I'm out of camp?")

Several minutes later, when Carter asked to go down to his lab, Hogan offered to accompany him. "You can show me how far you are."

"And I will come, of course," purred Marya.

"We can't have too many people missing from the barracks. You stay up here. If the guards come in, you can pretend you're me."

She rolled her eyes. "Sometimes it feels like you are _trying_ to get rid of me."

Hogan, tactfully, said nothing. He went down the ladder first and helped Carter down after him.

In no time, they were in the lab and Hogan was swimming in technical chemical terms up to his ears. Apparently this one required less in the wiring depart and more in the getting-fancy-with-the-equation-balancing department. He really needed to stress the importance to London of a new explosives drop.

Carter finally finished. "And...and that's about it." Hogan tried to recover quickly. It didn't help that, even though he was used to Carter's rambling, this bout sounded less enthusiastic than it did high-strung.

All he could think to ask was "You'll be able to finish before nightfall?"

"Yeah. The chemicals are pretty stable now. I just have to finish up the wiring. Kind of tough, making it a three hour fuse with the stuff I've got."

"Three?"

"I don't know how long the inspection will take. And I want them far away before it goes off. It's gonna be big."

Now that he knew that was squared away, he asked, "You nervous?"

Carter sighed. "Yeah. Newkirk, LeBeau, and Kinch are taking it there, right?" Hogan nodded. "It should be me taking it. So I can only endanger myself with my bomb. I messed up last time."

"Carter, I messed up. I shouldn't have sent you alone. That was a difficult job."

"That I should have done so no one else would have to be in danger the second time."

"That I should have done!" Hogan exploded. "That I haven't been able to fix since. I shouldn't have put you in danger the first time or the others in danger the second. I just– I haven't been able to do it."

Hogan looked at Carter, whose eyes were wide. Hogan clenched his fists and sighed. "Just get your bomb done. I know you can do it. We'll get that munitions dump."

"Yes, sir."

Hogan trudged back to the ladder, not looking forward to the mess above or below. But gosh darn it if he wasn't going to get this dump. He steeled himself and ascended.


	5. Now You Have to Trust You

Last one, guys! Thanks for sticking with me!

* * *

The rest of the day passed quickly. Between keeping Marya off of him and on something bearing resemblance to their plan, suffering a surprise inspection from Hochstetter, explaining to Klink why Marya was not in the car that came back from town, and then nearly forgetting evening roll call, he didn't have a moment to think until lights out. When he finally sent LeBeau into the trunk, Kinch out the stump exit to the dump, and Newkirk to the rendezvous point where Marya was picking him up, he took a deep breath and leaned against the ladder. Just he and Carter left. And he had to go check on the sergeant. As Kinch was leaving, he'd said, "I looked in there as he was finishing. He's got nerves. You should talk to him."

Hogan started toward the barracks, ready to bring Carter into the tunnels so they could talk next to the radio in case something went awry. He had to backpedal a few paces when he noticed movement in Carter's lab as he passed it. "Carter, I didn't know you were still in here."

"Um, just cleaning up."

He clearly was not cleaning up. He had been sitting at his table, fiddling with something that he had stuck in his pocket when Hogan had walked in, and now he was shifting things around that had already been neatly put away. Hogan sighed. He gestured to an extra stool.

"Oh, uh, sure. You don't need to ask, Colonel."

Carter, finally finding nothing else to pretend he was doing, sat down on his stool. He wrung his gloves in nervous silence until Hogan broke it.

"I'm sorry I snapped earlier, Carter."

"I don't blame you. For snapping. And for the situation. You know, for sending me alone and stuff. I don't blame you."

"It's okay, Carter. I don't blame you either." Carter looked up at him. It took some effort to say it, but he got it out. "Everyone—even me—makes mistakes. You did a good job minimizing the impact."

Instead of looking hopeful, Carter frowned at that. Usually, compliments didn't do that. "What?" Hogan asked.

"It's just—that, minimizing the impact, I didn't really. I mean, I did except to myself, but that was only partway there. I could have minimized it more and I didn't, I—"

"Carter?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Say that again?"

"Oh, um." He looked down. "I'm sorry. I feel kinda useless, you know? I—" He made his resolve. "Remember when I told you I could have done it, but I was scared?"

"Yeah." Hogan thought back to the brief conversation in the cooler. "What exactly happened?"

"Well, I set up the bomb. The fuse was set and everything. I went to leave, but some of the guards had figured out I was probably Underground, so I ran through the compound looking for a way out, and it took some time—too much time. I didn't think I'd be able to make it far enough away before it exploded, but really I think I could have. I was just scared and... I didn't think about someone else having to do it. I was being selfish and it ruined our plan and buggered up my knee."

Hogan could feel that not all of it was out. "And?"

"And...now I'm worried about them, and I feel useless to the operation, and what if I'm scared again? Will I just not finish my part of the mission? And what if the bomb they're using goes off early or they can't set it or conceal it well enough or it leaks or shorts? I'm just... not a good part of the team."

Carter wiped his nose on his sleeve and let his hand drop onto his lap. Hogan stood. "Tell you what. You wanna go outside and watch it?"

Carter looked up in alarm. "But, we have to be by the radio so Kinch can tell us if something goes wrong! So we can help them if they get found out, or my bomb doesn't work, or they go to the wrong dump, or the trunk won't open, or—"

"Carter, whoa. Slow down. Half of that I can assure you won't happen. We can go out. It won't be a problem."

"But it could! What if it does?"

"Look. Do you trust Kinch to get to the compound and keep an eye out?"

"Well...yeah."

"Do you trust LeBeau to jump out of the trunk, flick a switch, and run back in?"

"Mm, I guess."

"Then there won't be a problem. We can go out."

"What about Newkirk? You missed him."

"Well, if you trust the other two, his job's unnecessary."

Carter gave him a dubious look.

"Alright, then. Do you trust Newkirk to take care of his friends if something does go wrong?"

"Yeah, of— of course."

"Then let's go." Carter's eyebrows drew down. He didn't move. "Well I'm going to go watch the light show. You can come if you want." Hogan turned his back and left the lab. He smiled to himself when, a moment later, he heard Carter get up and limp after him. He waited around the corner until his man caught up, and offered his shoulder to lean on. Carter accepted, and they made their way to the stump. Once both of them were out, they walked into the woods, looking for a clearing not too far away where they could see the sky.

In a few minutes, they found one, where the stars were clear above them and the trees offered protection from the wind. They sat against a big, old oak and waited.

"Now you just have to trust you," Hogan said. Carter looked at him with uncertain eyes. Hogan looked up at the sky.

They waited in silence for several hours, giving Carter all too much time to think of everything that could have gone wrong. He kept checking his watch, occasionally updating Hogan on where they should be by now, and listening for warning signals from camp. When the hands on his watch hit 10:40, about the time LeBeau should be setting the fuse, Carter looked at Hogan. He had a serene look on his face. In fact, was he falling asleep?

Carter looked away. Hogan had left the camp with Major Hochstetter snooping, and the radio with his men on mission, to wait for hours outside the wire with a half-lame sergeant that he wouldn't be able to get back in time if something went wrong. And he was so relaxed he was falling asleep. The only way Carter could possibly make sense of it was that Hogan trusted him. _Really_ trusted him. That alone made Carter nervous, but it also made him feel warm and hopeful. He was able to quit fidgeting quite so severely.

It was Hogan who had to tap his shoulder some time later. He pointed to his watch. Any minute now. All of Carter's briefly abated worry came back and he waited in anticipation.

The first explosion was faint- a brief crash. It was followed quickly by more and more, compounding and getting louder. The sky above them lit orange, and they could feel the rumbling even from this distance.

"You did it," Hogan said.

"Yeah." Carter's eyes were glued on the sky. "I–it worked."

"Huh. I wonder how we did it without you."

Carter whipped his head around to look at Hogan. "Without me? What? Colonel, I made the bomb. The one that just went off..." Hogan's smug smile grew, and suddenly it all clicked. "Oh. I get it."

"You aren't worthless Carter. We can't do this without you."

Carter chewed on that in silence for a moment.

"Do you think they're okay?"

Newkirk answered him. "Nice an' easy. Went up right on time."

"Like a custard thickening," LeBeau agreed happily, joining Newkirk from the trees.

"Good to see you back," Hogan greeted.

"It worked?" asked Carter.

"Well you saw it, didn't you?" said Newkirk. "I assume that's what you're out 'ere doing. 'less we're interruptin' a date?"

Carter went red and began arguing while Hogan started to herd them all back to camp. He watched Carter. Yep. His point had gotten through. He made sure he got back in the tunnels first in case Kinch was on the radio, cursing him for failing to pick up.

~~Epilogue~~

"You are telling me," asked Klink incredulously, "the general blew up the dump?"

"Who else would know it was going to the front lines tomorrow?" asked Hogan.

"How do you know?" Hochstetter growled.

"You told me. Just now. And seriously, an inspection in the middle of the night? If you ask me—"

"No one's asking—"

"—you were just begging someone to plant a bomb. Especially leaving your post to come to Stalag 13, Major."

"I didn't abandon post. I didn't have a post! You can't make this my fault!"

"Oh!" Hogan snapped his fingers. "You were onto him the whole time, weren't you? Sly dog!"

"What? What is this man—"

"Why else were you at Stalag 13?"

"To catch you!"

"I was here the whole time. And you mean— you mean this was your fault? Oh, Berlin isn't going to be happy. You weren't here on the general's trail? How long ago did he leave? I bet you can still get him."

Kinch disconnected the coffeepot. "I think he's got it."

"All wrapped up," LeBeau agreed.

Newkirk walked over to the window, cracking it open. "Oh. Schultzie's coming."

Kinch put the lid on the coffeepot, but otherwise, no one jumped to leave. "And there goes 'ochstetter."

"He's going to his car?" Carter asked.

"Sure is. Full throttle. 'e's after that general."

"Good riddance,"said LeBeau.

"Until next time," Kinch said.

Just then, Schultz came in, paying no attention to the strange number of men in Hogan's quarters while Hogan was out. "Oh there you are, cockroach!" He looked with bright eyes at LeBeau. "When is the _bak_ -ing com-pe- _ti_ -tion?"

"Sorry, Schultzie. We had to cancel. We don't have enough supplies."

Everyone in the room, save for LeBeau, felt at least a little sorry for the portly guard. After several minutes of arguing and negotiating, he was on the verge of tears. The thought of this competition had kept him going for weeks, along with the samples of LeBeau's possible entries.

"Boy, if he'd quit talking about pastries so much I wouldn't crave them so much," Kinch said after Schultz had left, having lost possibly the most important argument in his life.

"The mess hall does a pretty good job on its own with that," reminded Newkirk.

"I'm just glad to get a break from baking. No more soufflé, no more pâte à choux. My saucepans have been neglected."

"Wait!" said Carter, suddenly alarmed. "No cookies?"

"Why don't you make us some nice Roman candles as consolation?" suggested Kinch.

"I guess," Carter said.

"Yeah, blow something up. You'll feel better. As long as it's not a dud," needled Newkirk.

Carter got rapidly defensive. "Hey, when have I ever made a dud?"

Newkirk smiled, seeing his ploy work.

"Don't worry. I'll see if I can make a small batch of cookies tomorrow," LeBeau relented.

"Thanks! Oh! Or maybe you can make a cake for the candles." He started to giggle. "Get it? Candles? Hey, you know, that's a good idea! Roman candles on a cake—"

"When are we ever going to use that?" Newkirk protested, as the three of them made their way out of Hogan's quarters and down to Carter's lab. Hogan passed them on the way in.

Kinch put the coffeepot away and said to the Colonel, "I think Carter's alright."

Hogan looked after his spiritedly arguing men. "And I think you're right."

"You might not want to send him out alone for awhile."

"Oh, no. He's got the next bridge to himself."

"Really?"

"As long as it isn't unnecessarily dangerous. Especially with Carter, it's good to let your men know you trust them."

"It'll scare him."

"Everything we do is scary, and I've seen him work around it many a time. Now I just have to convince _him_ that he can."

Kinch smiled knowingly. "That's the trick, isn't it? People are hard."

"People are hard," Hogan agreed. He shook his head. Very few knew how true that was.

* * *

A/N: Borrowing from canon in the last scene. 'One in Every Crowd' and 'Happy Birthday, Dear Hogan,' respectively.


End file.
